


Last Call

by feelskilledthefangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, F/M, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7826689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelskilledthefangirl/pseuds/feelskilledthefangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean Winchester dies for good, Sam must move on and learn to live without his big brother by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Call

Dean was gone.

His spirit and soul were no longer part of this world.

Dean had been killed a few weeks back after a drunk driver ran a red light and smashed into the driver’s side of the Impala. Sam had escaped with a few broken ribs, a minor concussion and a smattering of cuts and bruises across his body.

Of all the nightmares and bad mojo they faced every day, it was a normal, human caused incident that had finally ended the life of the eldest Winchester. How ironic was that.

Sam was completely lost, broken without Dean by his side anymore. His heart had been shattered in ways that could never be fixed. His brother, his partner, his family, had been taken away again.

He was buried in Lawrence, Kansas. Sam felt that it was only fitting to bring Dean back to the place where this all began.

Cas had used his mojo to take Dean’s body from the hospital morgue so they could properly put Dean to rest. Sam’s eyes filled with tears when he saw his brother’s cold corpse. They had done so much together, fought so much, overcame so many obstacles, why was this how it ended?

Sam refused to let Cas use his mojo to clear the blood away from his brother’s body. He sat with a damp cloth, carefully cleaning away at the crusted blood that coated his lifeless brother. When he was done, Sam was sure to remove everything from Dean’s pockets. He took out his phone, his favorite lighter, and his wallet. It wasn't like either of them had much to their names to begin with, but Sam wanted to hold onto what few things that he had left of his brother.

Afterwards, Sam had Cas gone out to a large empty field and watched in silence as they burned Dean’s body. Sam had built a wooden cross and placed it in the field with Dean's name etched into it. Sam thought it was only right to leave a physical marker for a man who had sacrificed everything to keep him and the world safe for so long.

Once Sam and Cas had left the field, Sam set out to find a way to get his brother back. Sam knew that Dean wouldn’t want to be brought back, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try. Deep down, Sam knew that there would be no bringing Dean back this time. He always pushed those thoughts aside.

Sam struggled to find someone who would help him. Someone out there had to know some way of bringing Dean back. This went on for weeks to no avail. No one dared to make deal with him and all the spells he attempted turned out to be flukes. After all, he was no witch. After each failed attempt Sam would felt a new piece of him slipping away, molding him into a new person. At once point Sam had even tried to get Cas to help him, but the angel wasn’t nearly as strong as he used to be. Cas didn’t have enough mojo to bring Dean back and Sam refused to face the truth. Cas tried to console Sam, but the hunter didn’t want to hear it.

Sam couldn’t take the pain he felt constantly aching in his chest or the unspoken apologies in Castiel’s eyes, so he distanced himself from the angel as best as he could. At first Cas didn’t understand Sam’s need to be alone, but after eventually he realized and stopped dropping by to check on the lone hunter.

After Sam was truly alone, he let his dark thoughts consume him. He wondered what he could have done differently to save Dean. Without anyone here to distract his thoughts, Sam’s self-hatred grew and ran wild. It always fought to be the center of his attention.

Even with Dean gone, Sam continued to hunt. He knew the dangers of hunting alone, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to care. If he died hunting, at least he’d be back with Dean.

Hunting was nothing more than a distraction at this point. It numbed him. He soon lost count of all the monsters he killed and all the towns he passed through. Everything kinda just seemed to blur together now.  Somehow it helped him cope.

Some nights Sam would spend hours in bars, drinking away his problems. Other nights he’d hook up with whoever threw themselves at him. That reserved, controlled version of Sam had died with Dean. Sam now knew why Dean always drowned himself in beer and women; it kept him from thinking about the horrible truths in their life. It helped him cope.

At the end of each day, Sam would somehow find the strength to drag himself back to whatever shitty motel he was staying at and collapse, boneless, and bloodied onto the bed. He only needed a single bed now, but he always still got two doubles out of habit.

He drank his way through many sleepless nights. When he did sleep, his dreams were plagued with nightmares. He would see his brother’s lifeless body beside him night after night. Sam would wake up, heart pounding like he had run a marathon and sweat clinging to his skin. He never spoke of the silent tears that slipped down his face after each dream.

One night, when Sam was more drunk than normal, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He wasn’t even sure who he was trying to call, but he just needed to talk to someone… His fingers were numb as he thumbed over his brother's number. He paused, staring down at Dean’s number through blurred, drunken eyes. Finally, he finally hit the talk button.

His heart was hammering in his chest as he waited for the line to connect. He jumped in surprise when Dean’s phone began to ring loud and ominous from inside Sam's duffle bag. Sam had kinda forgotten that he saved the phone. He only still had it in case one their old contacts called in need of some help.

Tears welled in Sam eyes with each unanswered ring. Salty rivulets of tears began to flow down his face when Dean's voicemail message started, his brother's husky voice sounding crisp and clear.

_'This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do.'_

Sam dipped his head and smiled softly through the tears. The smile felt strange and foreign on his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had really smiled. A small bubble of laugher fought its way up Sam’s throat at his dorky brother. It felt like forever since he the last time he had heard Dean’s voice even though only a few months had passed by. Sam could never forget his brother’s gruff smoldering voice. Even as he smiled, Sam felt his heart squeeze painfully.

When the pain came crashing back down, Sam closed his eyes to try and hold it all back. If he tried hard enough Sam could almost believe that Dean was still alive, maybe just out on a supply run or staying out late at the bar. His drunken haze made it easier to believe.

As tears continued to slip down his face, Sam could almost feel his brother standing behind him, pulling him into a soft hug. When the dial tone beeped, Sam opened his eyes and the illusion broke. All he saw was an empty bed across him, and his tear stained face reflected in a small mirror on the wall.

Sam dropped his eyes, unable to look at himself as he continued to hold the phone pressed hard against his ear. He wasn't sure how long he sat there without saying a word. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Eventually in his drunken slur Sam managed to choke out, "I miss you… so much."

When he finished talking, Sam pulled the phone away and finally pressed the end button. Dean’s phone, which was still tucked away in Sam’s duffle, chimed once to tell Sam that there was one new message… _Sam’s message._

The rest of the night was didn’t even seem real to Sam. The next morning he woke at noon with a bad hangover and a horrible headache. The alcohol had erased most of his memories from the night before, but not the memory of calling Dean’s cell.

That, he remembered clear as day.

~~~

After that first night, calling Dean's number became almost like a ritual to Sam. Every night he would call the number and leave a message that Dean would never hear. The first few messages were mostly filled with crying and Sam begging Dean to come back. Sam longed to hear his brother's laugh again or see the way his brother smiled when he cracked one of those lame ass jokes.

Somehow, these messages helped Sam cope. It was nice to hear Dean’s voice, no matter how much it hurt. He didn’t care that it was the same message over and over again.  Each night, alone in his motel room, Sam would whisper things like _"Dean I miss you so much.  It's so damn hard being here without you man."_ Or _“I’m still trying to find a way to bring you back. Just hang in there De.”_  

As time passed, his messages started to change.  Sam began leaving messages about the hunts he went on, telling Dean how much he wished he had been there by his side. It was so much different hunting alone.

~~~

On January 24, Dean’s birthday, Sam drove out to where he had burned his brother’s body. Sam brought an apple pie and a bottle of Dean’s favorite liquor with him.

Alone, Sam sat in the middle of the field beside the headstone he had left for his brother.

“Hey Dean…” Sam croaked with a soft smile. “I remembered the pie.”

Sam laughed at all the times Dean bitched when he forgot the pie. His laugh was bitter and died quickly in his throat.

“Happy birthday Dean…” Sam whispered as he opened the bottle of alcohol.

He poured about half of it over Dean’s grave. Sam knew Dean would have liked that. Then Sam took a drag from the bottle and sat down. He then cut himself a slice of apple pie and ate in silence. Sam wasn’t very hungry, but he ate the pie anyways, not really tasting the food in his mouth. It was even harder visiting the grave site than it was to leave a message on Dean’s voicemail. It made all of this seem much more real.

Sam continued to visit Dean ever year on January 24th. Like the phone calls, it became a ritual.

~~~

Two years after Dean had died; Sam still continued leaving his brother messages on the phone. However, now he had limited himself to calling once or twice a week. He was learning to cope with the loss slowly but surely.

One day Sam's left Dean a different type of message. "I'm finally out Dean.  I've given it up.  I don't hunt anymore. I'm sure that will make you happy." His voice broke and cracked as he found himself quickly reduced to tears. Hunting was one of the few ways he could get himself to still feel close to Dean. This had all just become too much. He couldn’t take hunting alone anymore. "I'm gonna try and live that normal life that we dreamed of living."

~~~

Sam continued to leave updates for Dean. Telling him about his new job as a bar tender, the little apartment space that he was living it and how nice it felt to stay in once place again. Sam even told his brother about the Impala, she was still running strong though Sam had to give her some tune ups every now and then. There was no way that Sam would every get rid of that car.

A few months after Sam got out of the life he left a message that said, "I found her Dean. I think I found the one.  I think you'd really like her.  Her name is Genevieve. She is smart, and sweet and absolutely gorgeous. I think you would like her. What’s even better is that she’s an ex-hunter too Dean. She understands the life; she understands what I’ve gone though."

The following messages mostly contained things about Genevieve. Sam talked about how sweet she was, and how much they had in common.

Five months later Sam a breathlessly message saying, "I proposed Dean. I actually did it man! And guess what, she said yes! I’m going to be married Dean! I know she’s the one Dean, I she’s perfect for me."

~~~

Sam told Dean about how amazing their wedding was and about their fantastic honeymoon in Hawaii. He told Dean how beautiful the beach was and how much Dean would have hated the plane ride.

A few short months after their wedding and honeymoon was over, Sam left another message; his voice was mixed with fear and excitement as he spoke. "Dean, you won't believe it. I don’t think I even believe it yet, but she's pregnant. Gen is pregnant _...  I'm gonna be a father!”_ Sam paused before adding. “I'm scared as hell Dean. What if I'm a bad father? You’d know what to do, I mean, you raised me so… I know you’d be a good father. You always were good with kids no matter how much I teased you about it. I wish you’d gotten the chance to… to have some of your own." Sam’s voice broke and he began to cry. It had been a long time since he had cried over his brother’s death. Sam was just overwhelmed with emotions. He wished that Dean was here more than ever now.

Throughout his wife's pregnancy Sam continued to leave a message for his brother every day. His wife Genevieve never once complained about Sam's strange habit. She too had grown up as a hunter’s child and she knew how important family was to hunters. Genevieve knew about how close Sam and Dean were. She had heard stories pass around the hunter community and heard stories from Sam too.

She knew that eventually Sam would move on, but these things took time. This was how Sam coped with the loss and she was okay with that. She knew that Sam would stop when he was ready.

~~~

On May 25th Sam was on the verge of tears when he left his message. This time however, they were tears of joy. "Dean, it’s a boy! I have a son! I'm a father!” Those were the only words managed to get out before he completely broke down.

The next night, Sam left another message. He was in his son’s nursery, holding the small child in his arms. The baby had gotten fussy in the middle of the night so Sam had gotten up to try and rock him back to sleep. He knew Gen was exhausted so he wanted to let her sleep a little.

When he picked the child up out of his crib he took care not to disturb the salt line around his son’s crib (he wasn’t taking any chances at repeating his own childhood).

Sam sat slowly in a wooden rocking chair by the window. He looked down at the baby in his arms and smiled. 

He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes when his son yawned and curled against Sam’s warm chest. Sam couldn’t believe that this was small child was his. He rocked the small boy until he had finally calmed down. When he was peacefully sleeping again Sam reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out the old cell phone that he used to call Dean on.

Sam dialed his brother’s number and waited. After a few rings Dean’s voicemail message picked up and the dial tone sounded, then Sam began to speak.

“Hey Dean, it’s me again. I wish you could see him Dean, my boy is so beautiful. He’s asleep in my arms man and he feels so tiny. I'm so scared that I'll hurt him. I can’t believe he’s mine." Sam fell silent. He was still marveling at the fact that he actually had a son. If you had asked him a few years ago, Sam never would have seen himself becoming a father. He had given up the dream of having a family many years ago, but now here he was. After a second Sam began to talk again, "Guess what Dean... we named him after you. As soon as I saw him, I just knew it was right. I know he’s only a few days old, but he reminds me of you. There’s just something about him. I know he’s going to just as brave and strong as you were.” Sam sniffed and tried to blink back his tears. “Don't worry; I'll keep him away from the business. He won’t be raised like a hunter, Gen and I will be sure of that. When he’s old enough, I’ll tell him about the awesome uncle he was named after. I tell him stories about the bravest, strongest man that I've ever known and the most amazing brother. I wish you were here man. Thanks for being the best brother anyone could ask for."

Sam began to get choked up and found himself unable to say anymore. He hung up the phone and set it aside then shifted his position slightly. A tiny smile formed on baby Dean’s face. One of his tiny hands moved and curled loosely around an amulet that was strung around Sam’s neck, _the amulet that Sam had given to his brother so long ago_. Sam chewed on his lip as he watched his son grasp the cool metal.

Sam remembered the day that Dean had thrown it away after giving up on the hopes of finding God, but Sam had secret fished it out of the trash and kept it hidden away. When Dean had died, Sam pulled it out of hiding and has worn it every day since.

As baby Dean held the necklace in his hand, the air around them got cold. Instantly Sam’s hunter instincts kicked in. This had to be caused by a ghost or a spirit of some kind.  Sam quickly, but carefully, jumped up and set his sleeping son back into the crib. The salt ring around the bed would keep his son safe while Sam took out any threats. Sam leapt into action and grabbed an iron pole. He turned and held it up ready to attack at a seconds notice. Sam and Gen always kept a well-stocked supply of hunting item such as salt, iron, and silver. They made sure that each room was filled with the proper hunting gear. It was better to be safe than when it came to the supernatural. Just because you left the business, didn't mean that it would never come back to haunt you. Sam knew all too well what was out there.

Suddenly, before Sam’s eyes a flickering imaged appeared before him. Sam swung before it had the chance to fully materialize. The ghost broke apart as the iron ripped through its body.

Sam was alive with electricity, his heart pounding in his throat. It had been ages since Sam had seen his last monster, but his senses were still as alert as ever. Sam had almost forgotten the rush of adrenaline that hunting always sent through his veins. He knew that at any minute the spirit would reappear again so Sam got ready for his next swing.

Suddenly, Sam heard a familiar voice behind him, “Hey, come on! Not cool man!”

Sam swiveled on his heel at the sound and came face to face with the flickering image of his older brother. Sam froze, his mind blanked and he seemed to forget how to breathe. In his shock, Sam almost dropped the iron bar.

"Dean." Sam gasped. His jaw fell slack as he tried to make sense of this situation. Dean didn’t look a day older than the day he died. Either Sam had really lost it this time, or Dean’s spirit had somehow found its way back after being gone for nearly two years. Why was Dean here?

"Heya Sammy. Miss me much?" Dean teased with a small smirk on his face.

“How… Why…” Sam was at a loss for words, still warily holding the iron pole in his hands. He had a hard time trusting a ghost, even if it was his brother’s ghost.  Sam glanced at his son, sleeping in his crib, then back to his brother.

His face must have been etched with fear and worry because Dean tried to comfort him.

"Don't worry Sammy. I won't stay long and I’m not gonna go all vengeful spirit on your ass or anything. That’s not why I’m here. I just needed to give you a proper goodbye. I was just waiting until I knew you had steeled down and were finally happy." Dean explained. "I didn't want to come too soon and have you to try and try to do some stupid hoodoo demonic witchy shit on me or anything to keep me here.”

Sam smiled brokenly at his brother. He missed Dean’s fucked up sense of humor. No one could crack a joke quite like Dean did. After a second, Sam’s smile began to fall. Pain echoed like a hollow log inside of Sam’s chest. Every memory of Dean ached like an open wound in Sam’s soul.

"But how are you here Dean?" Sam pressed. "Cas and I gave you a hunter's funeral."

"I know you did, but you kept that damn necklace." Dean chuckled. His deep forest green eyes dropped take in the golden amulet that rested in Sam’s chest. "Had no idea you kept it. I thought it was gone."

"Yeah well, I couldn’t just let you get rid of it now could I? What if you had ever wanted it back?" Sam told him as a small blush crept up on his cheeks.

"Well apparently I did want it, because I have it here in the afterlife." Dean said as he gestured to his own chest.

Sam's eyes dropped to see a twin to his own necklace around Dean’s neck. The golden charm seemed to radiate purity as it rested silently against the fabric of Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.

Dean smiled and added, "Cas says hey by the way. He watches over my heaven. Figured you’d wanna know that angels really are watching over me like mom said. He watched out for you too you know."

Sam smiled softly at his neither as tears welled up in his eyes. He was at a loss for words now.

"You've got a great thing going Sammy. Cute wife, sweet kid, he’s adorable. You've really done well for yourself Sammy." Dean said. "I'm proud of you."

“Thanks Dean…” Sam said with a soft smile. Then he turned back towards the crib and carefully picked up his son. “You wanna see him?” Sam asked.

Dean’s eyes widened and a soft smile crept onto his face when he saw the small child in his brother’s arms.

“He looks so much like you did when you were a baby Sammy.” Dean whispered as he reached towards the child and stroked his cheek.

The baby moved slightly at the touch but stayed asleep. Sam and Dean both smiled down at the baby in silence.

“Wish I could hold him…” Dean breathed. Then he chucked softly and said, “You know the whole ghost gig.”

Sam nodded, understanding what his brother meant. Dean could probably hold the baby for a second, but neither of them wanted to risk it. Sam knew how much effort it took for ghosts to make themselves solid and tangible.

“You take care of him, Sammy.” Dean whispered with one more longing look at the child.

“I will Dean.” Sam replied before putting his son back into the crib.

When Sam was facing his brother again, they gazed longingly into each other’s eyes.

"I miss you so damn much Dean." Sam finally said. His voice cracking slightly as he tried to smile.

“You know the drill, no chick flick moments, come on.” Dean scoffed. He looked like he was holding back tears now.

Sam chewed on his lip and fought to blink back his own tears. He laughed bitterly and cleared his throat before saying, “Yeah, you love chick flicks.”

Dean shook his head, considering Sam’s words. After a second he said, “Yeah, you’re right come here.”

Then Dean was pulling Sam into a hug. He could actually feel Dean’s arms around him. Dean was able to make himself tangible long enough for this. Sam knew it was energy draining for Dean, but neither boy cared. Sam hugged Dean back hard, tucking his face into Dean’s shoulder and burying his nose there. Dean’s familiar scent of whisky, leather, and gun powder filled Sam’s nose. It was something that he never thought he’d smell again. It smelled like home. No matter what happened in Sam’s life, Dean was always his home.

Their hug ended way too soon, but Sam could tell that Dean was having a hard time keeping a solid form.

When they broke apart, Sam clapped his brother on the shoulder. Sam never wanted this moment with Dean to end. He wanted to stay right here, locked in the moment with his brother for the rest of his life. Sam could tell that Dean was thinking the same thing.

I miss you too man, so much…” Dean said, breaking the silence. “We should have had so much more time together, but I guess life had other plans. Just remember that dead doesn't mean gone. I'll find you up in heaven when you're time come alright? We share a heaven remember. Just don't pay me a visit too soon or I'll kick your ass." Dean told him.

"I'll try my best." Sam said with a teary smile on his face.

"You better." Dean teased, "But hey, I've gotta get going now Sammy. Cas is telling me I can't stay much longer. Take care of yourself. Keep your family safe."

"B-bye Dean." San choked.

"Bye Sammy." Dean whispered add he began to fade.

Sam knew that this would be the last time he would get to see Dean for a very long time. He wasn’t sure when they’d be reunited, but Sam knew that Dean would welcome him into their heaven with open arms. Sam wanted to remember this moment forever.

“I love you Dean.” Sam whispered.

Dean laughed softly, with a smile on his lips. The sound was beautiful and filled Sam’s head with old memories. Then Dean winked and said, "I love you too, bitch."

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. They blurred his vision and his last image of Dean.

Then, Sam was alone.

He sighed quietly curled his fingers around Dean’s necklace. Sam knew that Dean was no longer attached to it and it felt like a strange weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed the weight until it had been removed. Sam now felt like he would be able to truly move on.

~~~

The next day, Sam chewed on his lip as he picked up his phone and dialed his brother's number one final time.

"Thank you Dean… for everything. I'm proud of us too, of everything we did together all the people we saved. It wasn’t always easy or fun but it was better when I was by your side. I only wish we had had more time together. Tell Cas to come stop by sometime. It would be nice to see his face every now and then. I’ll see ya later, jerk." Sam's face was clear of tears as he hung up the phone. Dean's final appearance had been the closure that Sam had been looking for all this time.

He smiled softly at the phone as he put it down on the side table.

It was time for him to stop living in the past. Yes, it still hurt to move on, but he had a family to care for now. Dean would want him to make that the priority. He had to make damn sure that his wife and son were kept away from the creatures lurking in the night. The only way to keep them safe now was to move forward. Sam knew that if Dean happened to be looking down at him right now, he would be smiling.

Sam could make it through this.

After all, who ever said goodbyes are forever.


End file.
